by Izzy Shows
I didn’t need my magic to know they weren’t vampires.
They were thralls who’d already been processed and either belonged to someone or to the herd. I wondered what they were doing here.
“You may all disrobe and bathe. You will be given your clothing after you’re clean,” Patrick said. “If you have any questions, Jeanine will take care of you.”
He gestured to the established thrall closest to him and then departed.
I glanced at the other thralls to get a feel for the room, but none of them would meet my eyes.
All right, then.
I strode to one of the benches and shirked my shirt, my shoes, and then my pants. My underwear was next, and once I was naked, I folded my clothes and put them on the bench.
That handled, I waded into the bath.
The water was deliciously hot. It seeped into my sore muscles, and I let out a small moan before I submersed myself. When I surfaced again, I saw that the other new thralls were stripping.
Apparently, they’d needed someone else to get into the bath first before they were willing to move forward. I shouldn’t have been surprised; the women who came here were likely to fall into the ‘sheep’ category as far as mental acuity went. Still, you’d think one of them would have been up to the task.
That wasn’t very nice.
I winced. I should be making an effort to make friends. Get to know the other women so I could keep a finger on the pulse of the castle.
One thing would always be true: servants knew everything before anyone else did. I assumed thralls would fall into that category as well.
I waited until a few of the other thralls were in the bath before I swam closer to them.
“Hey.”
One woman regarded me with envious eyes before she looked down at the water. “Hello.”
“You OK?” I tried to make heads or tails of her reaction to me. She had nothing to be envious about.
“Of course.” She puffed up a little. “I was Chosen by a high-ranking noble.”
“Still, not the King,” another woman said, her voice practically venomous.
I balked. “Are you serious? Is that what this is about?”
Another woman, reclining on the stairs that led down into the bath, spoke up. “You don’t get it, do you?”
I shook my head.
She sighed. “You don’t have family in the thralls, then. That’s kind of a surprise, all things considered. The King doesn’t take thralls. It’s just not done, as far as anyone knows. He’s never done it before. We didn’t even know it was something we could hope for.”
I wrinkled my nose. That didn’t make any sense. There was no reason for the King to break his rules for me.
He was interested in you on the rooftop when he had no reason to be.
Heat rushed through me again as I recalled our interaction on the rooftop. He’d spread kisses across my neck and taken my earlobe into his mouth, but he hadn’t fed on me. He’d regarded me as a man might, not as a vampire.
I didn’t understand it at all, but I didn’t want to, either. I wanted to forget that night if I could.
And it wasn’t like he knew I was the girl from the rooftop. That was poor logic.
“What’s the big deal, anyway? I’m still just another thrall.”
The girl on the steps laughed. “Who you belong to gives you status in the castle. You have more than any other thrall, even more than some of the lesser vampires. Of course people are going to be jealous. Who wouldn’t want that?”
I shivered. “Not me. I didn’t want special treatment. I just wanted a roof over my head.”
She quirked an eyebrow. “You might not want to say that. Me? I’m happy with my assignment. But others might not take it too well, that you’re not grateful for what you got.”
There were a few murmurs of assent from the other thralls.
I fought the urge to rile, to let my temper get the better of me. It was total bullshit, these women holding it against me that someone had picked me out of a crowd when I hadn’t asked for that.
But I knew better. I knew how humans behaved, if only because I’d read the books in Conall’s library and because I’d sometimes studied them on my nightly hunts.
I knew there wasn’t anything I could do to change their minds.
And here I was, thinking I might make a few friends in the castle, someone to sympathize with.
I should have known better. A vampire’s castle is no place to make friends.
“Come along, girls. It’s time to get dressed.”
Without waiting for the others, I surged out of the bath. The established thralls all had gowns with them.
“Nina?” one of the thralls asked, searching the group with her eyes.
“That’s me.” I beamed at her expectantly. I wanted to put some clothes on and move on to whatever was next. The bath hadn’t been relaxing at all.
“Here you are, darling,” she said as she handed me the gown she’d been holding. “Your shoes are over there. You’ll proceed to the next room to have your face done.”
Have my face done? What in the world…
I dismissed the thought, choosing to handle one situation at a time as best I could. I carried the gown over to a bench that had towels on it, put it down and quickly toweled off, then put the gown on.
Not only was it beautiful—a Grecian-style dress with purple trim along the hem and a purple sash—it was luxuriously comfortable. I’d never worn something so expensive. I knew that without a doubt.
But why waste so much money on a thrall?
A thrall is a status symbol. She’s a reflection of the vampire who owns her.
Conall’s words reverberated in my head. I’d forgotten about that. It hadn’t seemed particularly important at the time, when I’d assumed that I’d be joining the herd.
That meant the other thralls weren’t donning clothes of the same quality as mine. One more reason for them to hate me. I quickly looked around, noting that we all had different colors on our hems and sashes, with the exception of the herd thralls.
They had no color.
A twinge of guilt spiked through me.
I dearly wished I could trade places with any of them, that I could take a role that was far less important and required less oversight, but I knew that wasn’t how things worked around here.
The King had chosen me, and that was all there was to it.
I straightened my shoulders and followed one of the older thralls from the room.
6
Grayson
“I don’t understand,” my dear mother said between little huffs. “Why must you be so difficult?”
She was the only one who could talk to me like this. But then again, she’d given me life. That certainly afforded her more liberties than anyone else could hope for.
And she was very unhappy with me.
“I’m not attempting to be difficult, Mother,” I said. “Please believe that my actions had nothing at all to do with you.”
“But a thrall, Grayson? Why would you take a thrall when you're supposed to be focused on finding your mate?”
I don’t know.
I would never tell her I wasn’t actively looking for a mate, not in the way she wanted me to. Of course, I attended the balls she threw in the hope that I’d find my mate, but beyond making small talk with the women there, I didn’t try very hard.
A part of me didn’t want to find my mate.
A part of me still hungered for the hunter on the rooftop.
That was a part of me that I’d long since shut the door on, though. There had been no more forays into the city to look for her. My father’s death had been sign enough for me that it was nothing I should be doing.
And yet...
No.
“A thrall won't have any bearing on my ability to find a mate, Mother. I promise you that.”
And I could, in all confidence, promise that. It wasn’t the thrall that was keeping me from looking for a ma
te. It was just me. Me and my own deficiencies.
She wrapped an arm around my own, tugging on me. “You know it’s the most important thing, don’t you? You must find your mate and produce an heir to secure the line. Every day that passes without you finding your mate, we're in greater danger.”
I stroked her hair, making soothing tones for her. “I know, Mother, I know.”
And that was why I felt so guilty about it. I didn’t want to endanger my people. I knew the vampire species could end with me if I died without producing an heir, but I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that my mate didn’t lie within the multitude of women my mother was forever thrusting at me.
It was time this conversation came to an end. It would become circular before any good could come from it.
“However, at the moment, there are more pressing matters for me to turn my mind to. We have to find Graves' killer to put the Council at rest. They're very upset about this, and I understand why. No one likes to think of a vampire dying, certainly not a vampire of our caliber.”
She huffed. “All the more reason for you to produce an heir. What if something were to happen to you? Oh, my baby Grayson, if something were to happen to you, I don’t... I don’t...” Her eyes began to water.
I pulled her close to me. “Shh. Nothing will happen. All will be well, Mother.”
I wouldn’t allow anything to happen to me, if only to save my mother that heartache. After losing my father, she’d become even clingier than usual.
If something were to happen to me, I knew she wouldn’t survive it.
7
Grayson
My footsteps echoed on the marble floors as I made my way to my suite, anticipation twisting my gut into knots.
The thrall, Nina, was lying on the other side of these doors, ready and waiting for me.
What would I say to her?
God, what was I going to do with her?
I hadn’t thought this through at all.
With a deep breath, I pushed open the door and walked inside.
The first room served as a living room, where she was sitting on the couch with her hands clasped in her lap, gazing down at them. Was she trembling, or was that my imagination?
The longer I stared at her, the more certain I was that I knew her from somewhere. She was familiar to me, and yet not. Her scent was foreign, but those eyes… I knew those eyes.
I crossed the room and placed a finger under her chin, lifting her face so she was forced to look at me. With narrowed eyes, I gazed into hers.
“Do I know you?” It was a demand, and not a kind one. Internally, I winced at my own tone, but I couldn’t help myself. I sensed trickery, and I wasn’t going to have that.
“I’m sure I’d remember meeting someone like you, My Lord,” she said, her voice demure as she cast her eyes aside, though her face was still upturned toward me.
A slow growl built in my chest, and her eyes snapped back to me—wide and frightened.
I was being too rough with her, but I couldn’t bring myself to calm down.
I knew her. I just didn’t know how.
In silence, we continued to look at one another. It took her a second, but then her gaze began to dart over me. To my hair, my nose, my lips, my chest, my...
I cleared my throat, and her eyes darted back up to mine. There was a slight blush in her tawny skin.
Why did I feel a rush of victory that she'd taken notice of me?
Why did I care?
I shouldn’t care. She was a thrall. A tool, in truth. Food. Cattle.
She was nothing, and yet she was a conundrum I had to solve. There was something off about her, and I needed to know what it was.
Perhaps I can solve that particular puzzle after I taste her lips...
No.
No matter how much she might call to me, no matter that her blood sang to me in a way I hadn’t experienced before, no matter that her heart was racing and her chest was heaving and all I wanted to do was kneel before her and steal a kiss...
No matter any of that. I knew the rules.
Thralls served one purpose, and one purpose alone: feeding. They weren’t to be touched.
Of course, not everyone followed those rules.
A vampire was supposed to be incapable of finding interest in anyone but their mate. At least, that was what we were told. From what I had seen, a vampire wasn't above using a thrall for an hour of pleasure if it suited him.
I would never do such a thing.
If I didn’t intend to touch her, and I had no interest in feeding on a thrall—for that hadn’t changed—then why had I chosen her?
And yet, like a beast inside me, a growl built at the very idea of another vampire feeding on her.
Unacceptable.
I wouldn’t allow it.
You could have simply forbade her being Chosen at all, if that was all you cared about.
Pointedly, I ignored that thought.
I was being selfish. I wanted her, but I wouldn’t take her.
“You're certain we have never met?”
She shook her head, her soft cheek brushing against my finger like fire passing across my skin.
I curled my fingers to caress her cheek with the back of my hand.
To my surprise, her eyes drifted closed, and she leaned in to the touch.
Did she desire me as well?
Stupidly, hope flared in my chest.
It doesn’t matter. You can’t have her.
Right. The rules were in place for a reason. And it would be unfair to whomever I mated in the future if I took someone else to bed.
“Have you been given all you require?” I asked, watching her carefully.
She didn’t respond.
I withdrew my hand. “Nina?”
“Hmm?”
I frowned. Had she been...distracted? No, that didn’t make sense.
“Do you have everything you require?”
She blinked, then matched my frown. “What would I require?”
I took a step back, gesturing as I spoke. “Food, clothing, books. I don’t know.”
She laughed. “I'm already clothed, aren't I?”
The sound of her laughter was like a balm to my soul.
I shook my head. “That's...not quite what I meant.”
Curiosity crept through her expression. “What did you mean?”
“Do you need anything?”
“I thought I was supposed to be the one taking care of you.”
“I...” I began, but I couldn’t figure out what to say in response to that. She was right: she was the thrall and I the master. She was here to feed me. And yet, I wanted her to be comfortable.
Especially since I had no intention of feeding from her. It was too much, too intimate. I couldn’t trust myself not to touch her if I got a taste of her blood, I knew that beyond a shadow of a doubt.
Would it be so wrong to have just a taste?
Yes. Yes, it would be. It wouldn’t end at just a taste. I wouldn’t be able to hold back, wouldn’t be able to stop.
And I was a master of restraint, so what did that say about her?
I let my gaze drift over her, from head to toe, and did my best not to linger anywhere untoward.
This was a very bad idea, indeed.
“Good night,” I said abruptly, and turned and walked into my room.
8
Nina
I needed to clear my head.
The King had been so abrupt with me, I didn't have a clue what I was supposed to do. He’d just left, and after sitting there like a fool for a few minutes, I’d realized that that was it—that was all that was going to happen, and I'd excused myself to the room that had been prepared for me.
The day—or night? Things were backwards here—had progressed so far without a word from Grayson. He was gone when I woke up, and I had no idea if I was supposed to seek him out or if it would be best for me to wait in the suite for him.
After a few hours, I’d given up on the
idea of waiting for him to return. That was a recipe for boredom, and I couldn’t handle sitting around and doing nothing. I was an active person. I had to have something to do or I’d just about die.
So, I found myself in the library at midday, running my fingers over the spines of old books and reading their titles, trying to find something that would challenge my mind.
I might not be able to get the exercise I wanted while I was here, but I could at least keep my mind sharp.
“The McCalls, a History... Hm, no. Don’t know who they are. Probably not interesting,” I murmured as I passed yet another book on the shelf.
The library was full of stuffy material, but that was OK. I could read a stuffy book as long as it had something in it that I was mildly curious about.
Low standards and all. I had them.
“Ah! The Old Wars. What could this be about?”
I pulled the book off the shelf and flipped it open to the first page, the prologue.
This book contains a complete account of the Old Wars, when werewolves plagued the Earth and we fought for freedom. It is this author’s intent to provide as unbiased a view as possible regarding the origin of the war and the subsequent events.
That sounded interesting enough.
I carried the book over to an overstuffed chair and kicked off my shoes, sat down and curled my feet under me. I opened the book and thumbed past the prologue, then devoured the first few pages.
Then the door opened and the sound of footsteps pulled me from the book.
I frowned, and my heart started to beat a little faster—no way did I want to deal with another vampire. I knew that was going to become a normal part of my life while I was here, but I wasn’t ready to accept it.
A vampire with pale blond hair and dark brown eyes approached, his tanned skin shifting a shade here or there as he walked in and out of the lamplight.
“Hello,” he said.